


white noise

by sospes



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 16:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/640846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sospes/pseuds/sospes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thorin survives the Battle of Five Armies. His sister-sons don't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	white noise

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on _The Hobbit_ kink meme on LJ.

Kili dies silently, his bloody lips gaped wide and his sword sliding from his hand. 

Battle rages furiously around them, spears and arrows darkening the sky, and just a moment ago his sister-son was a part of that, hacking and slashing and laughing with a warrior’s twisted joy. They fight for Erebor, for their long lost kingdom, and the memory of gold puts fire in their bellies – but then out of the corner of his eye Thorin sees Kili jerk forward like a broken toy. There’s an arrow in his back and another through his throat, and Thorin can do nothing but watch as the light in his eyes goes out. 

Kili crashes to his knees, and blood drips from his lips. He pitches forward into the mud and lies still, never making a sound. 

Thorin can hardly think. 

It’s Fili’s roar that stays with him in the years to come. It’s the noise of someone who has just lost the other half of himself, full of madness and terror and disbelief – and for the first time in his life, Thorin freezes in his tracks. This isn’t his father, his grandfather, warriors in their own right, tried and tested: they’re boys, hardly more than children, and he promised his sister that he would keep them safe, he took her hand and swore to her that they would be waiting for her in Erebor like they’d always dreamed. He swore to her. 

Fili is crawling in the mud, sword cast aside and forgotten. He gathers his brother into his arms, and shaking hands smear mud and blood across his face – and Fili’s crying, sobbing, rocking his brother in his arms like he were cradling a baby. Kili’s eyes are empty, and Thorin forces himself to move because now is not the time for grief, no, now is the only time they have to keep themselves alive. He grabs Fili’s shoulder, drags him to his feet. “Leave him,” he bellows, and the wildness in Fili’s eyes breaks his heart. “Mourn him later. There’s no time.” – but Fili’s pulling away from him, stumbling backwards, lips twisted in pain, eyes full of hatred, and Thorin knows that he’s lost, now, that his mind has fled to a place empty of hope and joy. 

“Fili!” he calls over the tide of battle. 

And suddenly there’s a spearpoint forcing its way out of Fili’s chest. There’s nothing but shock on his face, and the weapon is ripped out again: the orc speeds past, hunched over his warg’s neck, and blood spills from Fili’s wound faster than water from a mountain peak. He collapses, heavy as Smaug, and it’s all Thorin can do to stop himself falling alongside him: Fili’s fingers twitch once, twice, and then he’s as still as his brother. 

The world buzzes in Thorin’s ears. He thinks, _Dis, forgive me._

“Thorin.” Dwalin’s voice is deep and angry, and he’s got Thorin by the arm and is shaking him like a rag. Orcrist hangs heavy in his hand. “Thorin! Your line dies with you, now. _Fight_.” 

Thorin takes his stand above the bodies of his sister-sons, Orcrist in one hand and Kili’s forgotten blade in the other, roaring his loss to the skies as the enemy comes at him, wave after wave breaking at his feet. Dwalin fights to his left, Gloin to his right, Bofur’s mattock whirls behind them – and Fili’s eyes are glassy, and Kili’s lips are stained with blood.


End file.
